Click click click click
I wonder when it was that I just decided I didn't want to leave this house anymore. Is it wrong that right now, sitting on my computer in a pair of basketball shorts, feeling slightly sad for no particular reason, that I'm happier than I would be if I were sitting on a beach in the Caribbean? Is it wrong that I would rather be doing this than camping out in Denali National Park for a couple nights?
Am I just this bored? My friends look at me sometimes as though I'm an old man, and they never fail to refer to me as one. I just want to be left alone sometimes, but where do I find the desire to keep it to sometimes? I believe if I wasn't blessed with such things as a somewhat active girlfriend and a semblance of a social life, I would at this point be perfectly satisfied with a night in, sorting my laundry, vivids in one pile, earth tones in another... towels in the basket, white towels still in the hamper, unmentionables swishing in the washer and me listening to a Conan: The Barbarian director commentary on volume level 64. 64 is a velvet level on my Bose system. It's calm and never alarming.
I sometimes wonder if I would enjoy my life if I were extroverted and obnoxious, if I were now the way I was when I was 17 and high on acid, sitting in my friend's Bronco on 17th Street, kicking my legs up at the stars showing through the sunroof. Is it the acid that made me the boring man I have now become? God, so many questions, so many regrets. I really hope I've done right by myself, that all this is the way I'm supposed to be, and not the fault of some outside influence.
Am I just this bored? My friends look at me sometimes as though I'm an old man, and they never fail to refer to me as one. I just want to be left alone sometimes, but where do I find the desire to keep it to sometimes? I believe if I wasn't blessed with such things as a somewhat active girlfriend and a semblance of a social life, I would at this point be perfectly satisfied with a night in, sorting my laundry, vivids in one pile, earth tones in another... towels in the basket, white towels still in the hamper, unmentionables swishing in the washer and me listening to a Conan: The Barbarian director commentary on volume level 64. 64 is a velvet level on my Bose system. It's calm and never alarming.
I sometimes wonder if I would enjoy my life if I were extroverted and obnoxious, if I were now the way I was when I was 17 and high on acid, sitting in my friend's Bronco on 17th Street, kicking my legs up at the stars showing through the sunroof. Is it the acid that made me the boring man I have now become? God, so many questions, so many regrets. I really hope I've done right by myself, that all this is the way I'm supposed to be, and not the fault of some outside influence.